Drink of the Week: Pickled Cowboy

Yeehaw! The Calgary Stampede has arrived, and with it a 10-day pass to do a lot of drinking. Some yokels might drink beer out of a sweaty cowboy boot, or sidle up to the bar for shooters with raunchy names like “Cowboy Cocksucker,” but not you, right? You’re classy. I get it. So I have just the drink for you: a Pickled Cowboy.

The Pickled Cowboy is my new favourite tequila cocktail, and perfect for sipping during the Calgary Stampede. Drink a couple and you, too, will be pickled. Yeehaw!

The Pickled Cowboy is my new fave tequila cocktail, and perfect for sipping during the Stampede. Drink a couple and you, too, will be pickled. Yeehaw!

I was introduced to this sublime drink last summer in San Antonio, Tex. when I mentioned I like tequila. There are lots of tequila-swilling cowboys down yonder in Texas, and judging from this recipe, they like them some pickling, too. Hot pickled okra juice is the preferred ingredient to pull off this cocktail properly (you can buy jars of delicious pickled okra in most Walmarts in southern U.S. states). Failing that, use the juice of hot pickled beans, or similar.

As for the taste of my new fave tequila bevvy? Not unlike a spicy, somewhat pickled margarita, with a dash of sweet, fresh-squeezed O.J. that makes all the difference. And remember, “Pickled Cowboy” is a play on words — you will become what you drink after a couple of these bad (cow)boys during the Calgary Stampede. Giddy up!

Giddy up and go Stampeding after downing a couple Pickled Cowboys.

Giddy up and go Stampeding after downing a couple Pickled Cowboys.

Pickled Cowboy

  • 2 oz reposado tequila
  • 3/4 oz fresh lime juice
  • 1/2 oz hot pickled okra juice*
  • 1/2 oz agave syrup
  • 1/4 oz fresh orange juice
  • Salt for rimming glass
  • Pickled okra* and orange wedge garnish

In a cocktail shaker, combine tequila, lime juice, hot pickled okra juice, agave syrup and orange juice and top with ice. Shake vigorously and strain into a salt-rimmed rocks glass filled with fresh crushed ice. Garnish with an orange wedge and a pickled okra*.

*Pickled okra is not available in Canada. Instead, use the juice from a jar of hot pickled beans (or similar), and sub in a pickled bean or asparagus garnish.

— Recipe courtesy San Antonio, Tex. resident Annice Hill

My favourite Inglewood flood stories

Has enough time gone by since the Bow River crested to start laughing about the crazy flood week? I don’t know about you, but for us — in between the moments of stress and panic — there were quite a few hilarious and strange stories that took place and are worth relaying.

So here goes… My Top 5 Inglewood #yycflood stories:

1. When it floods, save your… fish?

Inglewood alderman Gian-Carlo Carra snapped our betta fish's saviour ferrying him to safety.

Inglewood alderman Gian-Carlo Carra snapped this picture of our betta fish’s saviour ferrying him to safety.

Our betta, Blue-blue, is now 3-1/2 years old but still a part of the family. And so, when we were clearing out the house on Sat., June 22, I resolved to save the fish even though he could’ve just swam off had the river swept away our home. Even odder, the stranger who carried Blue-blue to safety was caught on camera by our alderman, then tweeted out. Awesome!

2. “Will work for rum!”

Larry volunteered tirelessly to help Inglewood residents clean up after the flood.

Larry volunteered tirelessly to help Inglewood residents clean up.

What do you do with 600 square feet of soggy carpet and underlay? Wait in your back alley for a guy named Larry to drive by and haul it away. Blake met him one afternoon when Larry was loading our carpet into his truck. When Blake offered to pay him Larry acted quite offended, then said, “You wouldn’t happen to have a shot of rum, would you?” I sense a new Inglewood motto: “Will work for rum.”

3. Always remember to mow your lawn before you evacuate

"You'd better not post that on social media," Blake warned while he mowed. "I don't want to be the loser out mooing before his house got flooded." Ha!

“Don’t post that to social media,” Blake warned while he mowed. “I don’t want to be the loser out mowing before his house got flooded.” Ha!

You know the saying about how you should always wear clean underwear in case you get into an accident? Well, here’s a new one: Always mow your lawn before evacuating your house because it might end up on national television.

As we were waiting for the official evac-door-knock on June 20 we wandered out front to look at the river. I commented on the state of our unsightly lawn and its towering dandelion population. “Hmmm,” said Blake. “Maybe I should mow it.” So off he went to get the mower and good thing too — 48 hours later a shot of the homes on our street opened up the evening news hour. And our lawn looked awesome!

4. Good thing we don’t need to hire a lifeguard

No need for a lifeguard when you've got this out front.

No need for a lifeguard when you’ve got this out front.

People keep asking us if we regret buying property on the Bow River, especially with young children. Don’t we worry they’ll walk out the front door and fall off the new cliff into the raging waters?

No, we don’t regret our move to 8th Ave. in Inglewood. If anything, we are even more jazzed about the ‘hood after the amazing response to our plight by friends and neighbours. And as for worrying about the children going for an accidental swim, there’s no concern now since Rapid Fence put up this lovely barricade last week. It also doubles as a really long dog run.

5. Forget cocktails. Where’s my beer?

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

For all that I write about cocktails, I never evacuated my cocktail shaker amid the flood panic. Through a week of helping friends clean out mucky basements, what I really wanted at the end of a long, hot day was a nice, cold beer. And a bottle opener would’ve come in handy, too.

Goodbye, best teacher ever

Wednesday was supposed to be the last day of school in Calgary. Because of the flooding, however, the school boards cancelled school all week and are opening school doors Thursday so the children will have a chance to say goodbye to their friends and teachers before summer break.

This kind of closure is important for our daughter Avery because her wonderful Grade 2/3 teacher, Mrs. Pomerleau, is leaving.

Avery hugs her teacher in the classroom the day before the class dissects owl pellets.

Avery hugs Mrs. Pomerleau in the classroom the day before the class dissects owl pellets.

At the beginning of the year I blogged about how I thought it was going to be the best year ever because of the gift bag the teacher sent home with the kids on the first day of school. And it was a great year — because of the teacher.

All the kids love Mrs. Pomerleau. She’s kind, patient, creative, knows how to teach and loves being in the classroom. I was continually impressed with the class projects and the knowledge my daughter was suddenly able to dish up at the dinner table. Over the course of the year Avery learned about the culture and life in India, Tunisia, Ukraine and Peru; built and tested different kinds of bridges using blocks and other materials; made an iMovie about alternative energy; and discovered rodent skulls after dissecting owl pellets. She’s gone from knowing 10 + 10 and being able to read the word ‘apple’ in kindergarten, to solving word problems and reading Nancy Drew mysteries in Grade 2.

I’m sure she would have learned these things with any teacher, but Mrs. Pomerleau made learning fun. The kids were always excited about what was going on in the classroom and Avery always wanted to go to school (and often, deliver one of the love letters she’d written to her teacher).

Recently I asked Mrs. Pomerleau what she loves about teaching.

“It’s the kids,” she said. “They’re just so excited to learn. Everything is new to them.” And so it is. Of course, the things she taught them were old hat to her, but Mrs. Pomerleau conveyed all the excitement as if she, too, was discovering new cultures, bridge engineering, alternative energy or owl poop for the first time. Being a great teacher, I now realize, is a special gift.

The kids are sad Mrs. Pomerleau is moving overseas for a year, but the parents are even sadder. It’s not every school year your child thrives so much. Mrs. Pomerleau is leaving some big shoes to fill. Goodbye, best teacher ever.